Pieces of Us (5 page)

“It means that no matter what’s going on between Lucy and me, you’re the one I want,” he said meekly, shoving his hands in his pants pockets.

“You were picking out cereal together, Cam.
Cereal
. She’s obviously spending the night.”

I folded my arms across my chest and waited for him to reply. He didn’t. He just stared at me apologetically, and I felt the fury rise again like bile in my throat. I allowed the rage to boil for a moment before I noticed people staring at us from their cars. I gritted my teeth and forced my anger back down.

“Cam, I don’t want to see you again. Ever.”

I heard the coldness in my voice and was shocked at how even and calm I sounded. I unlocked my car and sat down inside.

He yelled, “Fine!” just as I slammed the door and started the car.

I knew he didn’t really mean “fine.” The pain on his face and the desperation in his voice led me to believe he meant the exact opposite, but I wasn’t going to challenge him.

As I drove off I saw Lucy walk out of the store with an angry look on her face, and I accelerated to get away from them faster. Before I left the parking lot, I glanced into my rear-view mirror and saw Cameron watching me drive away. His shoulders were slumped, and his hands were buried in his hair, but I wasn’t turning back. I was beyond hurt now. I was done.

Chapter Three

All Around Me

“How does it feel to be home?” Owen asked, stroking my thigh softly.

I sighed and looked out the car window, focusing on the trees and fluffy white clouds flying by, not the buildings and houses. They were certainly familiar, but also painful. I associated everything in Fairfield, Connecticut, with
him
.

After the confrontation in the grocery store, I’d packed up and left town in a hurry. I hadn’t seen or spoken with Cameron since. I’d moved to Boston and tried to start my life over. I changed my name back to Charlotte Barnes, and within twelve months of leaving Fairfield, the divorce was final. My father had liaised between us for the divorce proceedings so there was no face-to-face contact needed. I was eternally grateful to my dad for understanding my need for space.

About a year after the divorce came through, I met Owen. He was a police officer who’d pulled me over for speeding. He always joked that when I handed him my driver’s license, he’d memorized my address so he could call me later.

Owen was everything Cam had turned out not to be: loyal, trustworthy, and dependable. I turned down his advances time and time again, but despite my apparent disinterest, Owen pursued me relentlessly. After the debacle that had been my marriage, I wasn’t in a hurry to trust a man. I wasn’t sure my heart could take being broken again. But one night, about three months after we met, I found Owen standing outside my apartment in the rain, waiting for me to come home and holding a bouquet of flowers. Taking pity on him, I finally agreed to the date. A part of me hoped it would go really badly so he’d finally leave me alone, but I was surprised by how much I enjoyed being with him. The pain of my divorce lessened when I was around him, and I discovered I was still able to laugh and have fun for the first time in two years.

We spent more and more time together, and as the months passed, I found myself not only trusting Owen, but feeling connected to him. I could talk to him like I hadn’t been able to talk to anybody, even my ex-husband, and it was a refreshing change. What started as a pity date evolved into a true partnership — one that I quickly knew I couldn’t live without. We traveled to Italy on vacation for our first anniversary, and not long after that we moved in together. On my twenty-seventh birthday, after we’d been dating almost a year and a half, Owen asked me to marry him. As the words left his mouth,
his
face flashed through my mind, but I pushed it aside, refusing to allow the past to haunt me any longer.

Even if my feelings about my previous marriage weren’t completely resolved, I wanted to be happy again, and I knew I could find that with Owen. I had no doubt he loved me, and I loved feeling like I was his whole world. I wouldn’t pass up spending the rest of my life with the man I loved and the first person in years I’d been able to trust. I’d accepted Owen’s marriage proposal and never looked back — until today.

As we drove past the “Welcome to Fairfield” sign, my stomach rose into my throat; I wasn’t sure if I was ready to be back. My dad had been asking me to move home for years, and he finally got his wish when Owen accepted a job as a police officer in Hartford, Connecticut.

Owen had actually brought up the idea of moving back before he had employment. He’d been adamant that there were issues in Fairfield that needed to be resolved before we could move forward with our life together. I was against the move. I thought I’d moved past the person I was when I lived there, and I was happy with the life we were building in Boston.

Then Owen came to me and said he felt like I was holding some part of myself back from him. He didn’t want me to have any doubts. I knew I had baggage from my ex-husband and my mother — issues we had discussed at length — but I hadn’t realized how deeply they were affecting Owen and our relationship. Realizing my very future depended on it, I agreed, reluctantly, to go.

We’d contacted my father, who was overjoyed to hear of our decision but wasn’t able to offer Owen any work. I was secretly relieved, thinking the lack of a job would convince Owen we should stay in Boston. But my father had connections with the Hartford Police Chief and managed to secure Owen a position.

Since he’d be working there, I thought we could live in Hartford, which was still closer to my dad than Boston, but Owen insisted that we live in my home town, despite the hour-long commute he’d have to and from work every day.

Owen’s job started in a month, but I was moving early to spend some time with my father, to find us a house to live in, and — with Owen’s encouragement — to start putting my former life to rest once and for all. We both knew this meant I might have to face Cameron at some point, but I wasn’t going to think about that until the time came.

To distract myself from the familiar sights outside the car, I looked over at my fiancé and smiled. His thick blond hair was squashed flat on the back of his head from pressing it into the headrest, and I giggled as I reached over and ran my fingers through it, trying to remove the bed-head before we saw my dad. He looked over at me, his blue eyes sparkling. Owen’s eyes were one of the things I loved most. They always showed so much emotion.

I directed us to my dad’s house and tried to relax as we pulled into the drive. I’d taken him the long way around town under the guise of showing him the sights, but my real intention had been to avoid driving down the street where I’d lived before — with
him
.

Dad’s smiling face appeared in the doorway, and he bounded down the porch stairs into the front yard. I’d just removed my seat belt and stood up, stretching my legs from the long drive, when he enveloped me in a hug.

“It’s so good to see you, Charlotte!”

“You too, Dad,” I replied, smiling and squeezing him back. “It’s been too long.”

I hadn’t been back since I’d left town, so the only times we’d seen each other over the past five years were during his annual trips to Boston.

“Michael,” Owen said, holding out his hand.

“Good to see you again,” Dad replied, shaking Owen’s hand firmly.

Owen and my father had connected instantly. I wasn’t sure if it was because they were both in law enforcement or if they had some unspoken male bond because they both loved me, but whatever the reason, it warmed my heart that they got along so well.

“I hope you don’t mind, but I thought I’d invite a few of the boys over and give Owen here a big Fairfield Police Department-style welcome. I also invited a few of the Hartford boys you’ll be working with,” Dad added, turning to address Owen.

“It’s fine, Dad,” I assured him. I needed the distraction.

Dad and Owen carried my suitcases upstairs to my old bedroom while I stood at the foot of the stairs and closed my eyes. The smell of my dad’s house was familiar and comforting, and a small smile crept over my lips. Maybe I
could
do this.

I heard loud footsteps coming down the stairs and opened my eyes when Owen’s arms slipped around my waist.

“How’re you doing?” he whispered, softly kissing my neck.

“I’m good.” I was sure many men would feel defensive or jealous about being in the same town as their fiancée’s ex-husband, but Owen’s only concern was how
I
was handling it. And it had been his idea. I felt very lucky to be loved by someone so supportive.

“How long until everyone arrives?” I asked Dad as he joined us downstairs.

“You’ve got a few hours. I told everyone to come mid-afternoon.”

I turned to Owen and cocked my head to the side. “I could use a nap. How about you?” We’d left Boston before sunrise, hoping to make good time on the road before rush hour traffic. I was exhausted.

“Sounds great,” he replied with a smile.

“We’ll be back down before everyone arrives,” I called over my shoulder, taking Owen’s hand and leading up him up the stairs to my old bedroom.

We collapsed on the bed and fell quickly asleep. When I opened my eyes, I could already hear muffled laughter coming from downstairs, and I supposed Dad’s friends had arrived. I looked out the window and noticed the sun low in the sky. We must have slept for quite a while.

Owen stirred next to me, and I rolled to face him.

“Hey,” he said, his voice gruff from sleep.

“Hey,” I echoed, smiling.

“How did you sleep?” He smoothed my hair with gentle strokes.

“Pretty well, actually.”

I stretched my arms over my head and enjoyed the sensation of my muscles pulling against each other. After being stuck in the car for several hours and then the nap, I was quite stiff.

“Mmm…me too,” Owen said, yawning.

“We should probably head downstairs and be social.”

“I know you’re right, but I’m just so comfortable,” Owen said, chuckling and snuggling up to wrap his arms around me.

I enjoyed the comfort of his embrace for a few moments, but when a particularly loud bark of laughter broke through from downstairs, I pulled away and climbed off the bed, straightening my clothes and running my fingers through my hair.

Owen pouted but also stood up. “Let’s get this over with. The sooner we go down, the sooner we can come back to bed.”

“I think you’ll have fun with the guys. They’re all just like you,” I joked, poking him in the side as we descended the stairs.

Owen gave me a skeptical look but then sighed and nodded.

“Char, Owen?” Dad called from the kitchen.

“Yeah?” I asked loudly, steering Owen through the house.

“Come on out back,” my dad said, smiling when we entered the room. “We’re going to turn on the grill, and we have a cooler full of beer.”

“Sounds good,” Owen called as he moved through the kitchen, his fingers laced through mine, pulling me along behind him.

“Oh my God! Charlotte?”

“Hey, Charlotte.”

I looked around at the familiar faces and smiled. It
was
good to be home. I watched as Owen introduced himself to the men in my father’s backyard and shook each of their hands. Then I sat next him and snuggled into his side as we listened to them tell him all about the Fairfield Police Department and the cases they’d worked on. They even suggested a few houses in town that were available.

After what seemed like forever, the barbeque was lit and the meat sizzled temptingly. The smell made me realize how hungry I actually was. Based on childhood experience with my father’s grilling, I knew the meat wouldn’t be ready for a while. My grumbling stomach wasn’t going to wait that long, so I decided to find something to tide me over. I went inside and poked around the kitchen. Just as I suspected, there was very little in the way of nutritious food to be found, so I made a mental note to go to the grocery store in the morning and stock up on some necessities. It made me feel a little guilty for leaving town only six months after my mother had abandoned my father, but I needed to get my life back on track, and I wouldn’t have been able to do that here.

There was a loud knock at the front door, and I smiled at Dad as he made his way through the kitchen to get it. He returned a moment later with a concerned and guilty look on his face.

“Ah…Char, I’m sorry,” he began. “I meant to tell you…”

“What is it?” I walked around the kitchen table to where he was standing.

As I moved closer to my father, his latest guest came into view. I started to feel very hot and grabbed the back of the nearest kitchen chair to keep myself standing.

“Charlotte?” Ryan said, looking just as shocked as I felt.

I looked at him, unable to tear my eyes away. His face had aged. There were smile lines around his eyes, and he seemed bulkier than I remembered, but he was the same Ryan from my other life.

“Hi…Hi, Ryan,” I stuttered softly, jumping when the back door slammed loudly.

Arms slipped around my waist from behind, and I registered confusion, realization, and then sadness as the emotions crossed Ryan’s face.

“You okay, baby? You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Owen said, holding out his hand to shake Ryan’s. “I’m Owen.”

Ryan opened his mouth to speak but was cut off when one of the guys came in. “Hey, Harper, good to see you,” he said, opening the fridge and helping himself to a beer.

Owen stiffened behind me, recognizing my old surname, and squeezed me tighter. We all stood in uncomfortable silence for a moment before Dad grabbed my hand and pulled me into the living room.

“Charlotte, I’m sorry. I didn’t even think. Ryan joined the force two years ago and is a deputy of mine. I just invited everyone at the station and didn’t think until later that maybe I shouldn’t have included him. I was going to tell you, but it completely slipped my mind. Is it okay that he’s here? Are you all right? I can ask him to leave.”

I took a deep breath and looked over my shoulder into the kitchen. I could see them standing there silently — Ryan with his back to me and Owen with his arms folded over his chest. From behind, Ryan reminded me of Cameron. Their builds were different — Ryan had always been taller and broader than his brother — but the way he was standing, with one knee slightly bent and his body resting on the door frame, was identical.

“It’s fine, Dad. It would be rude to ask him to leave when everyone else from the station is here. It’s not a problem, really,” I assured him. I was feeling a little dizzy, but I wasn’t going to let Dad know that.

“Okay, if you’re sure.” He squeezed my arm gently before walking back into the kitchen. “Come on, Ryan, why don’t you help me with the grill?”

Ryan looked over his shoulder at me, and I gave him a slight nod. He nodded back before following Dad outside. I heard loud cheers from the guys out there, and I guessed Ryan was pretty popular at work. I wasn’t surprised. I remembered him as a fun-loving and very loyal man.

Owen walked over and laced his fingers through mine before he sat down on the couch, pulling me into his lap.

“Are you okay?” he asked softly. “I can understand that you might be upset, seeing him.”

It dawned on me that Owen must have thought Ryan was my ex-husband.

“That wasn’t him. That’s his brother, Ryan.”